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Monday, April 21, 2014

Dear Diary, It's Easter

Easter Sunday in my house is really not a big holiday. We never were the family who dyed eggs. That was a tradition I missed out on as a child raised as a Jehovah's Witness. With my boys being the handful that they were when they were little, I just never went there. Instead, I would buy the plastic eggs, fill them with candy, coins, and money and hide them all over the backyard, or inside the house, depending on the weather.

It's not a holiday that we often spend with extended family, because it falls in April. If we see family, it's for Christmas or during the summer. Although, I did spend one with my brother a few years ago because it was near the time of my birthday, which I often spend in Los Angeles without the boys. Ordinarily, it's just us, here in Texas.

Back in the day when we used to have local friends who were almost like family, we would combine our family dinners, which was fun. Since then, for reasons that don't really make sense or add up, we have been dismissed from the close friend status. Personally, I think to know me is to love me. How could anyone not want to be my friend and want to have me around as often as possible. I'm pretty freakin awesome ...I think. Crazy yes. But also awesome.

We have other friends here, that I could have made the effort to invite over yesterday, but I didn't. Why? Because entertaining has become an overwhelming task for me. I already don't want to cook for the unappreciative heathens, who are my children. You know, I slave all day, then they come downstairs and tell me everything that they don't like, and what looks disgusting. I never know how they are going to be behaving, fighting or how much stress I will be under.

Sometimes, the more people around, the worse the behavior when it comes to my boys, my husband too for that matter. One might believe that they love an audience to perform for, but perhaps it's just their Aspergery ways.

I woke up regretting that I had decided to cook. I felt pressured by my mother who was thinking about what we were going to eat for Easter dinner over a week ago. The idea of going out sounds nice, but it's usually disastrous when we take the whole family. As I looked on Facebook at all of the fun family gatherings, or some people doing less traditional things like hanging out at the zoo, I secretly wished I was anywhere but here, doing anything but cooking.

We spent this Easter Sunday alone ...just our immediate family. I cooked a very basic meal, which everyone enjoyed except for me. It's hard to enjoy a meal after I've slaved over it for hours. I made a gorgeous ham, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, asparagus, and yeast rolls.

My ham was so purrty

I spent most of the day wondering if my father was alive or not. His caregiver had called on Saturday and left a message to say that he wasn't sounding like himself. When I tried to call back, I got no answer for hours on end including most of the day on Sunday.

I ended up sending the local police to his apartment. He didn't answer the door. A neighbor told the officer, he had just left to go to church with his daughter. First of all, he doesn't go to church ...ever! Second of all, I am in Texas, he's in California. My sister who is in California has not been able to catch up with him for days.

I finally got a call around 5 p.m. from the caregiver. He is indeed alive, but not doing well. He did indeed go to church with her. That within itself tells me for sure, he is NOT IN HIS RIGHT MIND! I felt awful that he was spending Easter alone, without any family. None of us have a key to his apartment, because that's the way he wants it. He has isolated himself, and is mad at most of his children. He refuses the kind of help that my siblings and I have tried to give him. The whole family situation in L.A. is just a disaster. I am sad and disillusioned with the whole thing. This is just not who I ever imagined our family to be...ever. I hate that I'm not there to piece everything back together. But the truth is, I can't change grown ass, stubborn people, no matter how much I would like to. I have my own set of problems right here that I can't seem to fix.

Me and Hubby Chillaxin on the couch after dinner

Why can't everyone just be like me? When it comes to people that I love, I just can not hold on to anger and pettiness. I let it go. I move on. I try to accept people for who they are, no matter how crazy that may be. Yes, we will have disagreements, we may get pissed at one another, but after a while, I just let it go. That is, unless I never really loved you all that much in the first place. Holding on to anger just doesn't feel good.

So it was a quiet, rather lonely, disillusioned with people, kind of Easter Sunday. Even though it was boring, because we didn't have any company or family here, at least the boys were not fighting. They did enjoy the meal. We enjoyed church service right here in our living room via the internet. The service touched my husband's heart enough that he managed to let go of some of his anger with Red. They actually had some pleasant conversation. No one complained hardly all day. And the very best part is ...my dad is still alive and I never put on a bra the entire day.